Late For The Gym

A high school buddy of mine, Elizabeth, was in town.  I hadn't seen her since 1976. . .let me explain.  Elizabeth only attended the high school for the 1975-1976 school year.  Her mother made her transfer to another school after that year.  We had an art class together, but I always remembered her because she was quiet, she loved comedian George Carlin, and when she did speak, she had intelligent things to say.  I hung out yesterday evening with her and husband at Hugo's Frog Bar, where another former classmate, John, works as a musician.  It was a good, relaxing time.  "My husband was hoping that you would come by.  He was intrigued to hear that you're a boxer," Elizabeth smiled. 

I stayed a little longer than I intended because I was enjoying everyone's company so much.  When I arrived at the gym, Colonel said, "Girl, we thought a serial killer had gotten a hold of you!"  Alan was perched on top of his desk.  "I was about to call you to see where you were," he smiled.

A lot of activity was going on.  Nate Sr. (seen bending over in the photo above) was there with his son, Nate Jr. (the young man sitting down in the photo), along with another kid whom I have seen before, but couldn't remember his name.  The boys were sparring, probably because they have matches coming up.  That's usually the case when the fighters who are under 18 show up to the adult boxing class. 

I kept on practicing keeping my chin down, which is a move I should have mastered years before.  Colonel told me to drop my head, then lean it over to the right.  That way, I don't get a crick in my neck.  He also said I should aim my jabs a little higher, using my shoulder to protect the side of my face.  The object is to keep an opponent from easily coming over with their right to pop me. 

Seth (in the orange shirt) sparred with Ray (who's looking for gloves on the glove table).  I they did a couple of rounds.  Then Kevin got in with Ray.  Alan kept yelling at Kevin not to do the stay-by-the-ropes-and-cover-up thing that Kevin did when he sparred with Alan the other day.  Kevin still did that a few times, but he did stand up and box with Ray.

Sarah came in, but I begged off sparring again.  There is a crick in my neck, the result of continuing fallout from the fight with Meg a couple of weeks ago, plus sparring with Sarah right behind that fight.  This is one of those times when I feel like my body is really out of whack.  When I exercise at home with the DVDs, I find myself constantly making modifications to the moves I see.  My knees won't cooperate, I can't bounce around, I can't bend too far. . . .it's a trip.  The good thing is I am getting used to exercising five days a week.  I gained a pound from last week, but that's okay.  Eventually, the numbers will go back down. 

At the end of the night, Colonel said he forgot that Halloween is this upcoming Monday.  "I like to scare the kids around the neighborhood," he grinned, and told us how he tricks out his house to achieve that.  I don't celebrate Halloween because it wasn't celebrated much in my house when I was a kid.  Over the years, I've also had a problem with a "holiday" that celebrates darkness in this world.  In addition, too many adults use the day to really show out in many wrong ways.  Speaking of which, Alan grinned and said, "I like driving around on Halloween and looking at the women in their scanty costumes."  "I'm telling Riva," I said, referring to his wife.  "I tell her that I look," Alan replied, grinning even wider.

Kevin The Scrapper

Got all the way downstairs with my boxing gear and realized that I forgot to pack my camera.  "Oh, well," I thought as I headed towards the front lobby door.  A woman comes in and we exchange hellos.  At first, I thought she was a tenant until I saw the mail cart outside.  "She's just now delivering the mail," I thought to myself as I shook my head. 

Alan had just opened up the gym when I arrived.  The room was stuffy, and it felt like middle of August instead of late October.  I was tempted to turn on the fan, but I let it go.  We'll appreciate the heat soon enough as the weeks roll on. 

Luckily, my little chin down helper was in my bag.  I brought it from Ringside years ago when I first took up boxing.   It is basically a roll of foam encased inside a covering with the boxing company's logo on it.  An elastic strap is attached so it can hang around the neck.  The purpose of it it to get a boxer in the habit of keeping their chin down while punching.  Since it's been pointed out by both Kenny and Colonel that I have my chin up too much, I decided to practice with it to break that habit. 

I begged off sparing again.  My neck is still a bit stiff and my right side below the rib cage is still acting funny, too.  My right knee felt as if someone had taken a small ball peen hammer and hit one side of it.  There's also a mysterious scrape on the lower left side of my back.  Don't ask me how it got there.  I woke up one morning, and there it was.  I'm always waking up and finding scrapes on myself.  It makes me wonder whom am I fighting in my sleep.  Makes me wonder if I'm winning those nocturnal fights, too.

Ray and Kenny sparred, and Ray ended up jamming his thumb on his left hand.  On Kenny's directions, Ray shot a jab at him, but it grazed off of Kenny's headgear instead.  Ray's thumb turned blue.  "I love him to death, but that's what I get for listening to him," Ray said. 

Jacob's thumb wasn't doing any better; he has to see a hand specialist in a few days.  He was able to shadow box and hit the bags, but sparring was out.  Jacob was not able to fight at Hamlin Park's boxing show last week because of it.  Kenny sat it out, too; he's battling a bad cold. 

Kenny also sparred with Reggie, who seemed to be worn out after their encounter.  They came out, then Alan stepped into the ring with Kevin, who showed up wearing a mouthpiece.  The sparring between them was largely a one-sided affair.  Kevin spent the majority of the time bent down low in the corners, against the ropes.  Alan used the opportunity to work on Kevin's ribs on his left side.  The rest of us kept telling Kevin to stop hugging the corners so much, but Kevin claimed to have a plan.

The younger man kept waiting for opportunities to either come roaring out with a series of punches or one big one.  However, Alan protected himself well from the occasional onslaughts of hits.  Kevin jumped out of the corner at one point and held Alan's head down with his left hand.  His right hand pounded Alan on his back.  Alan would say later that his kidneys were really going to feel that later on. Alan caught Kevin with a sharp right that nearly turned Kevin's head around.  In between the rounds, I gave Kevin water.  Kevin swirled it around then deposited it into a nearby spit bucket.  I noticed there was not only blood in the bucket, but around Kevin's mouth as well.  He wiped his mouth off with a nearby towel and kept going.  The two of them did three rounds in total.

It Was A Dark and Stormy Night

The news media was going on and on about the waves crashing up against Chicago's shores, and how the bike paths along Lake Michigan had to be shut down.  Big deal.  It's not that hasn't happened before.  I wasn't feeling well when I woke up this morning, so I stayed home most of the day.  I could hear the winds whipping around and the rain falling.  Once again, no big whoop.  Typical Chicago weather.

I felt well enough to go to the gym Wednesday evening.  Jiliberto opened the gym door and asked, "Where is everybody else?"  Normally, a few people other than myself are standing outside the gym, waiting to get in.  "I think it's going to be a small crowd because of the weather," I told him.  It was still raining outside, although the wind had died down a bit.  The temperatures had gone down, too.  Sure enough, the only people in attendance outside of Alan and myself were Colonel, Kevin, Amy, Seth and Reggie.  Kevin brought in a friend of his named Nick. 

Reggie, Seth and Kevin sparred.  Alan asked Amy if she wanted to spar, but she didn't.  Amy has only sparred with her sister Sarah, who wasn't in attendance that night.  I didn't feel like sparring.  I'm still experiencing soreness, and based on the fact I missed work that morning because of illness, I didn't want to chance getting jacked up again. I did a workout, but my mind wasn't totally focused on it.  I should have put more into than I did.

Looks like neither Jacob nor Kenny will fight at Hamlin tomorrow night.  Kenny's not feeling well, and the verdict is still out on whether or not Jacob is able to use his thumb which he injured during sparring awhile ago.  I might still go to Hamlin just to watch the fights.  Colonel was planning to go, too.

Colonel and Alan remind me of my uncles because of the stories they tell about altercations and near-altercations they've been in.  Recently, Colonel had to step to a guy on the train.  "This scary looking MF got on the train acting crazy. . .the guy stood over a woman and was harassing her.  Scared the poor woman to death.  I got up and told the guy, 'Look, I'm the craziest MF on this train', and the guy backed down.  I was ticked because I'm a a buck forty-seven challenging the guy, and nobody else on the train moved to stop him!" "That's how people do," I told Colonel, remembering a couple of times when I came to the rescue of passengers being messed with on public transportation while others sat and acted as if nothing was happening.

Alan told of an incident that happened when he was twenty-nine years old.  The engineer in the building he lived in at the time waited until it was just he and Alan on the elevator.  The engineer locked the elevator car and told Alan, "There are no witnesses, so I'm going to beat you up."  The engineer had earlier accused Alan of disrespecting him.  Alan tried to talk the guy down, but to no avail, so he had no choice but to swing back. The engineer later pressed charges, and lied to the police about Alan using a weapon on him.  This is where the having no witnesses issue backfired on the engineer, and the case was thrown out. 

No Sparring Monday

Reggie (the guy sitting in the photo above) came in the gym Monday night.  He had broken a femur bone playing basketball a few weeks ago.  It's healing up, but I worried about him doing a heavy workout.  Reggie had good news that he passed the physical required by the Evanston Police Department.  BK, who was also in the gym (he now works in security at a college) was very interested.  BK wants to be a cop too, and he's thinking about applying for the force in Lake County.

The other guy in the photo with Reggie is Kevin, who appeared to be healing nicely from injuries he suffered in a recent altercation elsewhere.  He revealed that he had trained up at Brooks Park awhile back.  There was a disagreement between him and a coach there, and Kevin was shown the door.  Alan was surprised because he knows the coach there -- Pat -- to be rather mild-mannered.

Sorry that the above photo looks off.  I have no idea what was going on with the camera.  The guy on the left is Paul, who is the boss at Alan's day job.  Alan (on the right) gave him a little training.  He was impressed with Paul's stamina and wind. 

No sparring went on.  The guys that are always up for it didn't come in that evening, and Sarah wasn't feeling well according to her sister Amy.  I was going to fill the water bottles out of habit, but both of them were full.  I'm assuming they had been that way since last Thursday, when the kids were in the gym.  

Victor (the guy in the middle in the photo above) came in later.  Colonel (in the blue) and Igor (wearing the Bears jacket -- I think that's a Bears jacket) watch something that Victor had taped, probably a fight.  Victor and Colonel started playing around for the camera, as seen below.

Colonel gave me two pieces of good advice.  "Keep your chin down and next to your right shoulder.  Pretend as if you're a sick bird," he said.  It helps protect one's right side of the face from being exposed to full-on blows.  I'm wondering why in the heck was I going around for so long with my chin up in the air.  I know better than that.  That would explain how easy it was for Meg to get in that uppercut that nearly took me out two weeks ago.  The second piece of advice was, "Never date guys who live in Chicago.  They don't know how to treat women!"

While I would have loved to have a rematch with Meg this Thursday at Hamlin, the truth is, I'm not up for it.  I took a beating from her at Loyola's boxing show, then I had some hard sparring sessions with Sarah the following week.  Both knees have been bothering me since that time.  My left shoulder's been a bother since I sparred with Sarah that Monday after the bout, and something feels pinched in my neck.  Stiffness has set in all over.  I should have taken it easy after that match, but noooo, as the late John Belushi would say.  I had to jump right back into things.  I've been close friends with heat patches, Arnica cream, Icy Hot, Ben Gay, and Advil since then.  I'll go up to Hamlin to support Jacob and Kenny who'll have matches there, but I'll have to sit that boxing show out. 

The Short and Nice of It All

Kenny and I sparred this past Wednesday.  Yesterday, I had what Oprah would always refer to as an "ah ha!" moment.  I have to really learn how to fight differently because of my height.  Kenny and Alan always point out how I throw punches out when the opponent is way out of my range.  The other fighter can always zap me, however, because of their longer arm reach.  I've also noticed, especially over the past few years, that it's hard for me to chase opponents around the ring.  Their longer legs give them the advantage of covering more ground in order to avoid my punches. 

Which reminds me of a story from back in 1988.  It was early on New Year's Day, and the guy I was dating at the time and myself were leaving a party that had been thrown by radio station V103 at the McCormick Hotel.  It was bone cold outside, and we had a bit of a walk to get back to the nearest public transportation stop.  I had been foolish enough to wear low pumps and not carry a pair of boots along with me.  Ice and snow covered the sidewalks.  I was stepping fast because I wanted to get out of the weather.  The guy laughed when he noticed that for every two steps he took, I was taking several.  He was 6'3" with long legs.  I'm still 5'1" with short, stubby legs. 

I can't think of any male boxers who are short, although I'm sure there are some.  But there are plenty of professional female boxers who are 5'5" and under.  I need to watch film on them to see how they get around the height disadvantage.  I know someone short can take down someone who's taller than they.  Like my Aunt Mary is fond of saying, "Dynamite comes in small packages."  She's only 4'11".  It wasn't too long ago that some guy was messing with her on the street and she knocked him to the pavement.  Didn't I mention that my aunt is in her late seventies?  My mother is 5'3", and she and my late father, unfortunately, had their dustups before they eventually divorced.  Yet she managed to put a few scars on my old man, who was 5'9", and bigger and heavier than she. 

Now that I further think about it, I need to muster up more of the fighting instincts that Ma and my aunts have, too.  While I was in the ring with Kenny, Alan barked, "Hillari, come on!  You're not even trying to hit him!"  In the back of my mind, I'm always thinking I never really want to hurt anyone.  I'm too nice in that respect, but it doesn't serve me well in the ring.  I've mentioned before that my maternal grandfather had been an amateur boxer; my mother and my aunts learned how to throw punches by watching their dad whenever he taught my late uncles how to box.  My uncles had plenty of stories about the spectacular street fights they were in -- and often won -- but my mother and my aunts were (and are still) not slouches when it came to defending themselves. 

Maybe it would help more if I pretended my opponents were people who had pissed me off.  I have a long list of plenty in the past who have that I could use.  Just recently added someone new to the list last night.  I ordered food, and the delivery guy called up to my place on the intercom.  I buzzed him in.  A moment later, he calls back.  "Is the buzzer not working?" I ask, which is usually the case.  "Yeah, it does, but there's a woman down here who told me she wasn't going to let me into the lobby until she leaves," the guy replied.  I knew exactly who that woman was.  In my last post, I complained about both of my knees hurting.  I forgot about the pain and ran downstairs as fast as I could. 

The woman in question was sitting in the lobby.  There are several human irritants who have taken up residence in my building over the past couple of years.  She's one of them.  The woman does not speak when "hello" is said to her, prefering to look through people as if they weren't there.  A neighbor down the hall from me had to tell her off when the woman tried to prevent them from putting their clothes in the dryer.  The woman had decided the dryers were her personal property that day, and she felt no other tenant was allowed to use them.  She has attempted to block other tenants -- including myself -- from entering the building if they happen to be walking in behind her.  She'll ask, "Do you live here?" when she knows good and damn well she's seen that person coming in and out and getting their mail numerous times before.  The woman continuously displays all manner of rude and odd behavior. 

"Why did you tell the delivery guy that he couldn't come in here?" I demanded as soon as I got down to the lobby.  She dabbed her face with a napkin and blatantly ignored me.  I asked her again, and still no response.  I was calling her all kinds of foul names in my mind.  It ocurred to me to snatch her arm and shake her violently.  All I had to take was two steps to grab her, and it would have been a done deal.  It was pretty stupid of her not to consider that she might have set herself up for some major unpleasantness.  But I remembered that I do know how to box, and no, I didn't feel like explaining myself to the police that night.  "Don't do it again," I said coldly, before letting the delivery guy in.  I stomped back up to my apartment with my food, wishing that I hadn't taken the high road with her.  But that's another major thing I've learned since taking up boxing.  I have to walk away from some people in order not to make it a bad day for either me or them.

Two Guys, Two Injuries

It was Columbus Day, but the field house and the gym was open.  Carolyn wasn't there, and none of the women at the front desk had a key for the gym door.  Alan was running late again, and he had called in to let the staff know he was on his way. Kenny and Colonel walked in and wondered why I was waiting in the hall.  "Did you ask if any of the front desk people have keys?" Colonel asked. "No. . .," I said, but before I could finish, Colonel was asking if they could open up.  One of the women had taken the late call from Alan.  She told Colonel that the staff was waiting for Alan to show up.  Colonel wanted in, so he called Alan so he could tell the staff to open the door.  Kenny admonished his father for doing that, indicating that Colonel might get the staff in trouble.

Later, when Alan arrived and we could gain access to the gym, I explained it to Colonel.  "When Carolyn is here on Monday, and Jiliberto is here on Wednesday, they usually open up the gym if Alan hasn't gotten here yet and they see me.  That is, unless they've heard something different from Mary.  But if Carolyn and Jiliberto are not here, I don't ask other staff to open up, because I know that Mary might get on them for it."

Marcus stopped in briefly on Monday night to show us his left arm.  A muscle popped in his upper arm while he was using an exercise machine at another gym.  The doctors did their repair job, but the healing is going to take awhile.  He was wearing a cast.  "It'll probably be February before I can get back in the gym to do anything," Marcus told me.  "It happens like that.  You've been used to doing a certain exercise, and all of a sudden something happens to a joint or muscle.  You wonder what is going on?" Alan said. 

Kevin came in a little awhile later.  He was calling me from outside one of the windows to come open the back field house door up.  I thought I heard someone calling my name, but since it wasn't coming from one of the guys already in the gym, I thought I was mistaken.  Kevin had a bad gash and some scrapes on his forehead.  From what he told me, his injuries came out of a situation where drinking was involved.

Kevin's gash sort of reminded me of a fight my late paternal grandmother started decades ago with a woman who was much bigger than she.  Grandma was 4'11; the woman, a tenant of hers at the time, was 6 feet tall.  The argument involved payment of rent.  My mother said they exchanged words, then in the next instant, Grandma was all over the woman like a cheap suit.  When it was all over, the tall woman had a bald spot at the top of her head.  It wasn't because my grandmother had pulled her hair out. Grandma had repeatedly scraped the woman's head against the sidewalk.
 
Professor gave Kevin pointers on how to throw punches. Kevin was throwing a lot of them on the heavy bag, but there wasn't much power behind them.  He also taught Kevin how to jump rope.
 
No one sparred, which is very rare, especially since Alan took over the gym.  Kenny announced early on that he didn't feel like it.  My knees have been bothering me since before the last fight I had, and I wasn't up for it, either.  There wasn't that many on hand in the gym that night.  I suspect a lot of people thought the gym was closed because of Columbus Day.

A Week With The DVDs

I exercised six days last week.  That's counting the two days I'm at the gym.  Finally, I figured out how to reset up the DVD player.  When the exterminators came in a month ago to get rid of the bed bugs (I haven't seen any in awhile--knock on wood), they had unhooked the DVD from my TV.  It took awhile for me to figure out what cord goes where.  The instructions I have weren't a whole lot of help.  But then, what instructions for TV and DVD hookups are?

I pulled out a few exercise DVDs, mixing them up for a little variety.  I need a mix of strength training and cardio, not only strength training like my neighbor Eric suggested.  Eric is big on weight lifting, the type of guy who spends three plus hours in a traditional gym hoisting 300+ pounds and more.  Being strong is a plus, but strength alone does not win boxing matches.  I've seen too many guys walk into the boxing gym who think their muscles are the only advantage they need.  Stamina and conditioning count for a lot.  If neither one of those are present, a boxer can't expect to be very successful when facing an opponent.

I like Kettlebell 3-in-1 with Amy Bento.  There are two complete workouts on the DVD, the first one being the right pace for beginners.  The second workout is for the intermediate level which is just slightly more intense.  Ms. Bento has a tutorial so that people can learn how to use the kettlebell properly before they begin.  Working with kettlebells is a combination of strength training as well as cardio. 

Sarah Lurie has a DVD set called Iron Core Kettlebell.  Complaints I read online about these DVDs were about the 30 second breaks in-between sets.  You know what?  They're needed.  Ms. Lurie is no joke when it comes to this workout, which is more intense than Ms. Bento's. While Ms. Bento is friendly, Ms. Lurie is no-nonsense and about the business.  That Turkish Getup exercise where you have to raise up from the floor while keeping an eye on the kettlebell?  Legalized torture. 

The other two DVDs I used were by ray-of-sunshine Leslie Sansone.  Ms. Sansone is very cheery, talkative, and upbeat which helps a lot when one is trying to stay motivated to exercise.  She is the queen of power walking workouts.  I like her workouts because they are gentle to the joints.  Years ago, when I turned thirty, I guess I was grumbling about the loss of flexibility, which I was beginning to notice.  A former co-worker of mine, Mary (God rest her soul), told me, "Wait until you turn fifty."  She was right.  Don't think a walking workout is easy or wimpy.  I'm sweating by the time I get to the middle of it.  The two DVDs I used last week were Punch Up Your Walk (which involves using weighted gloves that were included with the DVD) and Walk Away the Pounds.  Both DVDs give the option of doing the whole workout or just 1, 2, 3, or 4 miles of walking depending how much time you have and how you feel. 

Next week, I'll wade through the other exercise DVDs I have to keep the variety going. 

Soreness

I made a comment to Pastor Roger awhile back about boxers being tougher than football players because boxers don't take off between February and August (or however long it is that football players are in off-season).  The pastor, an ardent football fan, smugly replied, "Football players take time to recuperate."  Well, football players don't have to be ready at any time for fights like boxers are.

But I think we pay for being at that level of readiness.  I was back in the gym this past Monday after having a fight last Friday, and I sparred on Monday.  I also sparred on Wednesday -- with Sarah both days.  Maybe should I have begged off of sparring and toned down the workout a little this week.  I've been sore since last Friday.  Today, my right knee was on fire.  I had to go to the drug store this afternoon and get a heat patch.

Josh, who hadn't been in for a long time, came in.  He asked me what had been going on, and I told him about last week's boxing show.  That's all he needed to hear.  Josh made a beeline towards Jacob and started asking a bunch of questions.  He spent most of his time in the gym asking questions and talking.  I honestly don't remember Josh doing a workout at all that night.

Ralphie sparred with Alan, as seen in the photo above.

And in this photo too.

I forgot to call Alan ahead of time to remind him to bring in a timer.  The one in the gym is officially broken.  Fortunately, Colonel brought in one that he owns to use for the evening.  

I've decided that I really need to step up the exercise, so I've been working out with my kettlebells this week.  Once again, I conveniently forgot that I'm still sore from Friday.  Maybe I should have waited until, oh, let's say, next week to put the new exercise routine into place.  Looks like I'll be back in the drug store later to pick up BenGay and pain pills.

The Monday After The Fights

I wasn't hurting much on Saturday, but by Sunday, I gingerly eased into my usual pew at church service.  Soaking in a warm bath of green rubbing alcohol later that afternoon didn't help much.  My left shoulder blade, my left shoulder, both of my knees, and my sides were jacked up.  I shuffled around like the old woman that I'm slowly becoming.

That didn't stop me from sparring with Sarah on Monday, however, as I reverted back to the habit from my younger days of throwing caution to the wind.  Alan kept telling me over and over, "Work your way in with the jab, then work on the inside."  I attempted to do that, but I was reminded again and again of how short I am by Sarah's long reach.  I dug in on some body shots, but my head paid the price.

Alan wondered where the other women -- Maggie, Ursula, Baia, Lynesta -- were at.  Of those, Ursula did come in with a guy named Robert.  A lot of the guys were missing, too.  "Where are they at?" Colonel asked.  "You know, after a boxing show, people take off for a night," Alan answered.   Steve, the former coach, used to tell guys that they didn't have to come in to the gym right after they had a fight.  I had a half a notion to stay home myself, but it lasted for a second.  I needed to get right back into the workout, regardless of how sore I felt.

The cops have been hanging around the gym frequently as of late. One of the last time a pair came in, Alan jokingly pointed to Kenny and told the cops, "There he is!"  "Man, don't scare me like that," Kenny told the coach.  Kenny has freely admitted to having been a guest of the police on several occasions when he was younger.  The cops come in, observe the training and the sparring, and talk to Alan.

Colonel gave me a copy of Friday's boxing show.  "Don't punch me too hard, but all of your fight didn't make it on tape.  The battery ran out in my camera!" he told me.  "Don't worry about it.  My stepmother taped all of the rounds," I told him.  I'll get to see most of the mistakes I made that led to me losing.

A stray trophy that Alan found on Friday night turned out to be the one that was awarded to Jacob.  Colonel got it out of Mary's office, and I placed it in my locker for safekeeping.  My locker is officially the catch-all for everything that others leave behind.  Speaking of awards:

This is the Sportsmanship Award I was given on Friday night.  I'm still pleasantly surprised to have received it.

Kenny asked when the next boxing show will be, and Hamlin Park's show is next up on the calendar for this month.  I told Alan that Bill wanted me to go over there and fight Meg again.  "I don't think you should fight her again this time.  It'll be too soon behind the last fight," Alan suggested.  I remember when Meg and I fought those two times in 2009, those were practically back-to-back bouts as well.  Maybe that was a factor in why I lost the second time.  I'd rather not have another fight stopped on me like the last time.  But I'd like to have at least one more fight before the Chicago Park District boxing show season ends.  Well, maybe I'll wait until December when Brooks has their boxing show and see what happens then. 

The Loss and the Surprise

Anxiety had been dogging me about tonight's fight at the Loyola Park Boxing Show for most of the week. Alan called me in the middle of the afternoon to say he had fights ready for Jacob and Kenny, but hadn't heard about one for me.  I couldn't get upset about the possibility of not having a fight because it's happened too many times before. It's also part of the game.  My anxiety eased up a bit.  But when I arrived at the field house, Alan informed me, "You're fighting Meg."

Oh, snap, I thought to myself.  I had already lost to Meg twice in 2009.  Before my bout, Alan told me, "Sometimes we get complacent while sparring and training in the gym.  But you have to want to win."  I didn't want to lose a third time to Meg.  But I could not deny that she throws very good and quick punches, and she never lets up. 

Miriam, my stepmom, Alex, a friend from church, and Lorie, a neighbor from up the street were in the audience.  Mike L. also was in attendance, as was Kevin.  Miriam taped my fight, and Colonel was also taping.  He was perched on top of a ladder in the basketball gym where the ring was set up.  Professor, Willie, Tony, and Nate Sr. helped Alan and Barry with the warmups and in the corners.  Melissa also saw the fights.

I met a woman whose name I should have gotten. . .she was a fighter, too.  She came in the gym with Sean, one of the boxing officials (who's also an author of several books about Chicago boxing).  She told me about an all female boxing gym opening up in Westmont soon.  They're going to have an open house.  I would love to go to check it out.  Her and I bemoaned the fact that it's so hard to get fights because of the lack of other female opponents.  Just like me, she also spars with guys when she's at her gym.

I sang the National Anthem, and then the program began.  My bout with Meg was number six.  Jacob and Kenny fought later in the evening.  My anxiety had died down for the most part once I stepped through the ropes onto the canvas.  But once the bell rang, it was all Meg.  I took a good four to five straight shots to my face, and a couple of rough uppercuts.  One of the uppercuts, which I took in the second round, nearly knocked me down.  I stumbled, and cursed to myself, because I know the judges did not miss that.  My hands were down too often, and I caught some hooks, too.  I grabbed Meg's arms in a vain effort to slow her down, but as soon as the referee called, "Break!" she was back to full speed.

The headgear I had on kept slipping.  I wish boxers could wear their own headgear during the matches, but it's against the rules.  I stopped to adjust it after Meg had knocked it sideways on my head in the middle of the third round.  She took advantage of my foolishness and popped me again with a jab.

In between rounds, Alan kept telling me I was doing good, but that I had to go get Meg.  "You want to win, don't you?" he asked.  "Yes," I gasped, but as slow as I was moving, I already knew I was fighting a losing battle.  Tony told me to cut the ring off on Meg, and I really tried, but she was too fast.  The one time I nearly had her, she immediately threw a barrage of punches, and I had to back out or get knocked out.  I lost the match.  The referee told me, "You just ran out of gas at the end."  "You're very good," I told Meg as we hugged.  "You're good, too, lady," she said.

Later, I met her three very polite and very cute kids -- two girls and a boy.  The boy was bearing a box of cookies.  "They always give me cookies after my matches," Meg smiled.  Her son shoved the box at me and said, "Have a cookie!"  It was so funny, and so thoughtful of them.

Bill, Meg's coach, came up to me and asked if I would fight in Hamlin's boxing show in October.  "It's so hard to find fights for Meg," he said.  Meg told me that she was over forty.  Believe me, she doesn't look it.  Another guy who complimented Meg and I on our fight thought her and I were kids; he didn't believe either of us were over forty.  I told Bill how old I will be on my next birthday, and he said, "That's why I said you were an amazing woman."  He told me that when I shook his hand after the match was over. "You're on the computer, you train here, you fight -- you're amazing!" he continued.  I told Bill that I would be happy to come fight at Hamlin.

The guys had better luck than I.  Jacob faced a big guy for his opponent.  By the third round, Jacob was tired out.  But he got some solid body shots in.  I was worried because Jacob seemed to be taking a lot of full on shots to the face from the other guy.  Jacob backed off a bit, but he came right back and hung in there.  The photo below shows Jacob -- with his winner's trophy -- and his girlfriend talking with Alan.

I was busy talking to a lot of people, including my stepmom, Alex, and others, so I missed seeing most of the boys' matches.  But Willie's grandson, who's also named Willie, and Gus both won their matches.

During Kenny's match, there was a very vocal woman who was cheering for his opponent.  "Beat him!  Get him now!" she kept yelling.  A man next to her was cheering for Kenny.  I heard her say in an annoyed tone to that guy, "You can cheer for the red corner (Kenny) if you want, but I'm cheering for the blue corner!"  Alan kept telling Kenny, "Don't wait on him!" as Kenny measured his moves against the guy.  Kenny was popping the guy with jabs all over the place, and was given the winner's trophy. 

Eric fought another young man who's also in the Loyola Park youth boxing program.  Their fight was classified as an exhibition match, so neither of them were given trophies afterwards.  I believe that Eric won.  Willie, seen in the photo below, was in Eric's corner.  Their match was the last one of the evening.

Special awards for sportsmanship and most improved boxer are always given after the last match.  They are usually given to a couple of the kids.  I was distracted, playing around with my camera and looking out for other photo opportunities.  Suddenly, I heard my name being called.  Barry presented me with the sportsmanship award.  I was very surprised.  "You deserve it.  You've been helping out here for so long," Barry smiled.  The award, which is in the shape of a boxing glove, now sits prominently on my desk at home.

My back hurts a little right now.  I'm not sure if it's because Meg hit me there, or because I was twisting and turning earlier moving stuff around my apartment.  Miriam asked me after my match when I was going to stop fighting.  I got a chance to see a playback of what she taped.  Meg beat me because she's in much better shape.  She's a fire fighter, you know.  I'm always struggling to lose weight, plus trying to fight off signs of aging.  "I'll probably do a few more this year, then stop competing, and just stick to coaching and working out," I told her.  I told Alan the same thing.  "You could still do it as long as you're able.  You train regularly," he said. Boxing is addictive.  I know I'll never give it up completely, but I wonder how easily I'll be able to give up the part where I actually mix it up with others in the ring.

Two Days Before Fight Time

Colonel walked into the gym, clean as the Board of Health.  He was wearing a suit jacket and pants with a turtleneck.  "Why are you so sharp today?" I asked him.  "What are you talking about?  I'm sharp every day!" he laughed. 

Baia returned; I forgot that she's in school, and she can only make it to the gym once a week.  She brought a friend with her, Lynestra (I'll get the name right soon), who will sign up.  Ray brought a professional boxer with him named Chuck, who just signed a two year contract to fight.  Alan did not come in Wednesday.  Rosh Hashannah began that night.  He'll come in later on Friday evening for the rest of the boxing show. 

As usual, there was no sparring because Alan was out.  There was still a lot of activity, however.  I spent most of the evening training Baia and Lynestra.  Professor gave them tips, as well.  Kenny and Chuck worked with Ray and Jacob on pads.  Kenny told me that I should raise my hooks to the body to catch opponents in the liver and in the ribs.  He told Ray and Chuck, "Hillari caught me with one of her body shots once, and my pride kept me from doubling over and yelling @#$&!  I wasn't going to let it be known that a female had gotten the best of me."  All of us fell out laughing.  I thanked Kenny for the tip and made a mental note to remember it for Friday night.

Beginning of a Fight Week

Alan made a list of those in the gym who plan to fight in Loyola Park's Annual Boxing Explosion show this Friday.  My name was at the top of the list, followed by Kenny, Jacob, Tony and Ray.  "I would say add Oscar, too, but he hasn't been in for awhile," I told Alan.  "No, I'm not going to put him in," Alan said.  He also decided that Tony shouldn't fight either.  Tony sparred with Kenny and Benjamin.  He was huffing and puffing badly.  It happened too many times before, so Alan told Tony that he couldn't put him in the boxing show mostly for safety reasons.  I understand that Tony smokes, which contributes to him not having the wind power while in the ring. 

Benjamin sparred with Kenny twice.  Kenny was the man of the night as he sparred several rounds with Benjamin and Tony, including three rounds with me.  "That overhand right you gave rang my bell!  You've got to use that and come over the other person's right when you fight," Kenny told me afterwards.  Alan added, "Wait until they get closer to throw punches, then dig into them.  Hillari, you throw too many punches when they are far away.  That's just wasting energy."  I guess I think that's a way to keep them from getting in on me.  In reality, I'm often leaving myself open so the other person can do some real damage. I've got a few days to get it right before I meet Meg or whomever I will have a fight with on Friday.

Of the women, only Melissa and Amy came in.  Sarah was preparing for her daughter's third birthday tomorrow, so she could not make it in tonight.  Alan helped Melissa with her form in regards to throwing left and right hooks. 

Kevin, a bearded guy who rode up to the gym on his bike, also came in.  Tony watched him on the heavy bag and asked did he come in regularly.  "No, Kevin comes in on and off," I answered.  I was trying to remember the last time I saw Kevin, and it might have been sometime back in July.  I don't remember seeing Kevin's name on the class roster, but surprisingly, Igor's name was there.  But Igor comes in even less than Kevin does.  Alan remembered that I told him that Igor did not spar when Steve was the coach.  "Igor sparred with Victor the the last time he was here, but Victor wasn't hitting him hard," Alan said. I didn't notice Igor and Victor sparring; they must have been moving around out on the floor, as I don't remember seeing them in the ring. 

I practiced "The Star Spangled Banner" a little bit today, promising myself that I would sing it quieter, slower and lower than I have in the past at the boxing shows.  Too many times, I want to go into Barbra Streisand mode and belt it out.  But every song doesn't have to be -- or can be -- belted out. 

Alan told me to do an extra workout tomorrow.  I was just thinking that I have to get on the stick about adding extra exercise during the week, especially after watching Olympic boxing hopeful Marlen Esparza's intense workouts on a CNN documentary yesterday.  I need to something purely aerobic, but I also need to focus on getting my overhand rights and uppercuts in order, too.

In The Woman's Corner

I watched a very good documentary which was part of CNN's "Latino In America" series of reports.  It followed a young woman, Marlen Esparza, and her quest to get on the women's Olympic boxing team for 2012.  She had the number spot at the Olympic trials until other challenged sued to have a shot.  Esparza had to go to Colorado to face the other contenders in the ring. 

She looked very good in training and during the fights the documentary highlighted.  Esparza has some dangerous hooks, and she's a pressure fighter.  I was rooting for her to go all the way.  Then she lost to Christina Cruz, another Latina.  It was the first time Esparza had ever lost a fight, and she had been involved with boxing ever since she was eleven years old.  She's now twenty-two years old.  She was crying, and I felt bad for her, too.  But what can you do after a loss and/or missing out on a fight?  I remember Ivy, a fellow member at my church asking me what I was going to do after I was denied an opportunity to have a bout a few years ago.  "Go back to the gym and train," I answered.  Esparza did the same thing.

I was impressed at the way she got up early in the morning to do roadwork, then hit the gym to do drills, spar, and lift weights.  She also watched what she ate very carefully.  "Wow, I feel like a lazy bum," I thought, comparing her every day training to my twice-a-week efforts and my half-assed attempts at adding a day or two more of exercise outside of the gym.  But then, she's going for Olympic gold, and she has to be on top of the game.  Esparza had to face Cruz again to get another shot at the Olympic team.  "This is a lifestyle for me, but it's a hobby for her", she commented. 

Esparza is a national amateur champion (six times), and she did beat Cruz the second time they met.  I clapped and hopped in my seat.  It warms my heart to see women advance in this sport.  Gloria Peek, a prominent US Olympic boxing coach who was also in the documentary, commented, "Women have entered the last male stronghold." 

More On Wednesday

Two more new people showed up on Wednesday, and Colonel (the guy in the middle of the above photo) gave them some pointers.  Colonel used to train fighters, as well.  The woman in the black top is Melissa, and the woman in the blue top is Maggie.  I also worked with them on drills that involved catching and countering punches. 

A few guys who knew Alan from Clarendon came in including Anthony, who went hard on Ray while they were sparring.  I was busy coaching Melissa and Maggie, so I didn't see the action.  I turned around at the end to see Anthony laying on his back on the canvas.  "Anthony was tired.  Plus, he smokes," Alan explained.  Ray was not expecting Anthony to rush at him, but when he did, he responded in kind.  "I thought he was going to take it easy, but when he started banging, I was like 'okay'!  Come on, I don't mind getting hit," Ray said.  Ray told us about a bad kidney shot he took a long time ago.  "I went down on my knee, and took an eight count.  When the bell rang to start the next round, I really felt the pain.  When I used the washroom later, the stream was like the Red Sea!"

I learned the name of another new guy who had been there on Monday: Seth.  Seth sparred with Kenny, who loves to use the ropes to rebound off of and explode on an opponent.  Seth handled himself well, however, for someone who had not boxed before.

Jacob came in, and he was disappointed to learn that the fight on the 23rd had been canceled.  He's hoping for something on the 30th, when the Loyola Park show takes place.

I sparred with Ralphie.  Like Kenny, Ralphie dances around the ring.  As usual, I made up my mind not to chase him, mainly because I'm not that fast or quick anymore.  I did back him up against the ropes and in the corners a few times.  I'm getting a little better at cutting off the ring for an opponent, but it's still not an easy task when someone is good at being a moving target. 

"Wow, those two really tower over me," I thought after I got a good look at the photo above.  Amy is to the left of me, and her sister Sarah is to the right.  I look like a munchkin, don't I?

Fall Newcomers

Kenny was looking forward to the show fight on the 23rd of this month, but Alan got word that show was canceled.  Sam told Alan that someone died -- not sure who if the person in question was a promoter or part of the staff of the church where the fight was going to be held -- so the show will not go on.  Next up is our annual boxing show, which is next Friday.  Alan was concerned that Jacob that did not come in to train since there is a big possibility that Jacob may have a fight at the Loyola Park show.

Several newcomers were in the gym, as today was the start of the fall session.  Patty and Baia (I'll get the spelling straight) are friends.  Patty also knows Jamil, whom I haven't seen in months.  Both women stated what is a common chant among most women who come to the gym: "I don't want to spar."  Right on cue, I later overheard Alan trying to sweet talk them into trying it.   He might not be successful this time.  Baia was very adamant about not getting into a situation where she could be knocked out.  Patty couldn't wrap her mind around how people can take getting hit during sparring and bouts.  Colonel told her that after the first time, people aren't as apprehensive about that because they know it's coming, which is true.  Henry and Benjamin were two other new persons.

I was surprised to see Igor -- who used to drive Steve nuts back in the day -- waiting outside the gym door.  He had a buddy with him named Victor.  Alan knew Victor from 15 years ago when Victor used to train under him.  Victor is in his late 50s, and he looked to be in great shape.  He claimed that he goes back and forth to the Ukraine to box professionally, and that he's won the Ringside championship a few times.  Victor walked around with a video camera, catching Igor's workout on tape.

Benjamin surprised me by jumping into the ring to spar with Kenny.  "Might as well since I'm here", was his response when I asked if he was going to spar.  It is rare for newcomers to spar the first night they are in the gym.  "He doesn't have a mouthpiece", I told Alan.  "That's his choice", Alan replied before telling Benjamin to keep his mouth closed while sparring.  Henry also sparred with Kenny, so that was a first to see two newcomers take on the challenge of sparring on the first day of a new session. 

Sarah and I participated in another ring war, but she clearly had the upper hand.  She hit me with an uppercut, and I had my mouth open.  It stunned me.  I backed up in a vain attempt to get some distance and clear my head, but Sarah continued to come forward.  A right hook clocked me in the head and got me off balance, as did a few other head shots.  "Come on, Hillari!  She's just as tired as you!" Alan barked as I started to falter quickly.  Every time it got near the end of a round, Alan did a countdown.  Maybe it was the hits I took, but I could have sworn I heard him say the number two twice at the end of the third round.

Ralphie made a surprise appearance.  He's been working and busy with his one-year-old son, which is why he hasn't been in for awhile.  "I'm on vacation this week, so maybe I'll come in on Wednesday, too," he said. 

The mess pictured above is some of what I had to clean up this past weekend after the exterminators decided they didn't like how I originally moved my things around for them.  Fortunately, I was able to get rid of a lot of stuff I didn't need anymore.  Unfortunately, there was some damage caused by the exterminators that I didn't catch before.  Three of the storage bins I owned had to be tossed due to damage from the heat treatment, and the external speakers I had for my computer are not working.  Maybe I shouldn't complain. . .I've only seen a few bed bugs since the treatment, and I zapped them all.  Haven't seen any since (crossing my fingers). 

Distraction and Long Arms

On my way to the gym on Monday, I ran into African Paul.  I met him earlier in the summer, and he told me he practices martial arts.  When he learned that I box, he said he would be interested in learning some moves.  I immediately put him in the acquaintance zone and gave him my number.  Too late I realized that he was looking for a girlfriend.  I got busy, and didn't have time to return his incessant phone calls.  African Paul followed me to the field house, claiming that he wanted to observe what goes on in the gym. 

I sparred with Kenny, who told me beforehand, "I'ma go hard on your ass, Hillari, because you have a fight coming up."  I took some hard side and belly shots from him.  I mustered up energy during our last round to answer his punches as powerfully as I could. 

A tall, very dark complexioned young man walked in the gym and asked Alan, "Do you remember me?"  "So many guys come in here, I don't know," Alan said, trying to place his face.  "I got my eye hurt in here. . .remember?" the young man said.  "I remember you," I said.  It was Deo, whose eye socket was cracked by Leon a few years ago during sparring.  Deo informed us that he had also had a detached retina from that ordeal, but thankfully, doctors were able to correct it. 

Against my gut feelings, I let African Paul walk me home instead of taking a ride from Alan.  I grew annoyed as he was a bit too touchy-feely for my taste.  Then he ran into a bunch of sketchy looking guys whom he called friends, and gave the impression that he and I were an item.  "Why haven't you dated in awhile?" he asked.  "Because I'm busy," I answered, which is honestly part of the truth.  African Paul droned on about his being a recent business school grad and his trying to get an internship.  He talked about his male roommates, who also sounded like they participate in some bogus activities.  African Paul claimed that he was "saved" and did not do what they do.  Then he said something that never fails to raise a red flag for me.

He asked me if I had been married before and I answered, "Marriage is not a priority to me these days," which has been true for some time.  "When we get married, we'll move into a bigger place," he smiled.  We ain't gone on one date, and we never will.  I hate when guys won't take hints there's no chance for a relationship, and think they're going to be the exception in some woman's life.  The fact that he broke up with an ex-girlfriend only a few months before, and admitted that he's still in touch with her was also a factor in my decision.  He angled to get invited up to my apartment, but I left him on the other side of the security gate. 

"So what happened to the African guy?" Alan asked me yesterday when we were back in the gym.  I told about the guy being thirsty -- that is, seemingly desperate to get into another relationship before recovering from the last one, and the marriage thing.  "Wow, that guy was moving fast!" Kenny commented. 

Amy sparred one round with her sister Sarah, then it was my turn in the ring.  Amazingly, I finally got around Sarah's long arms.  I got in a lot of hooks and dead-on lefts and rights.  But Sarah did not back down.  She had me against the ropes with flurries and cracks to my eyes and mid-section.  Alan was off-sides saying, "Beautiful!  Nice!" and giving out loads of instructions.  Sarah and I participated in three rounds of a good-natured war, engaging in one intense exchange of punches after another.  I'm still trying to figure out where my energy came from.

Jacob said, "That was the fight of the night," after it was over.  Sarah and I both had to sit down for awhile to catch our breaths.  "See?  You thought you couldn't do three rounds today, and you did," Alan said to me.  He told both Sarah and I, "That's the best I've ever seen you two spar."

My Off Night

My energy has been low all week.  I've been running back and forth between my apartment and the house of a couple at my church.  The couple is out of town on vacation, and I'm house sitting and taking care of their pet.  I also had to prepare my apartment for exterminators who came in yesterday to eliminate the bed bugs.  More about that later.

Not many of us were in the gym last night:  Tommy, Sarah, her sister Amy, Nathaniel, Renee, and Jacob.  Nathaniel and Jacob sparred, and once again, Nathaniel's nose became bloody.  "I have to learn to keep my hands up," he said afterwards.  "Always keep your hands in front of your face, because the first thing most boxers will do is try and throw straight punches to the middle of your face.  Bring them back a little by your cheeks to ward off the hooks," I told him. 

Alan decided to get a piece of Jacob next.

Of the women present, only Sarah was willing to spar.  I felt off because of my low energy.  Perhaps I could have just gone ahead anyway (most likely going in the ring with Sarah).  However, the times that I ignored that "off" feeling, and I went ahead and sparred anyway, I ended up paying for it.  Sarah sparred with Alan instead.

I didn't do much of a workout last night.  But I was suddenly animated while Sarah sparred with the coach.  "Watch out for that sneaky left!" I told Sarah, when I saw Alan throw his patented underhanded jab a few times.  It looked like she was giving him some soft punches at one point.  "Hit him harder.  He can take it!" I said to her.  Alan popped her with more than a few jabs, rights, and hooks.  But Sarah hung in there with him, backing the coach up a few times against the ropes. 

Alan talked to Mary about changing the date of the upcoming boxing show.  He can't be there because the date of the show falls during Rosh Hashanah.  "I never change the date of the show," Mary said, and she explained that was because of other Park District and Loyola Park field house activities that go on around and immediately after the boxing show.  Alan joked, "You've never had two Jews coaching at one time," referring not only to himself, but Barry as well.   Mary said Barry doesn't have a problem with being there during the show, so Alan said that he'll take off that evening.  "If you had told me four months ago, we might have been able to reschedule, but. . . next time, tell me in advance," Mary smiled. 

When Alan dropped me off at my apartment, he told me to be careful walking back over to the house of my friends who are out of town.  "I'll carry my brass knuckles," I joked, but I've been keeping them at home.  I'm still irritated about having the last pair taken from me at the Daley Center.  Yeah, I admit it was stupid of me to take an illegal weapon down to the courthouse (I had forgot to take them out of my purse).  But that was a good pair.  Luckily, I was able to get another set.  Alan showed me a baton that he carries around.  "I thought those were illegal in Illinois like brass knuckles are," I said.  "No, they're not.  You can get them online," Alan said.  I made a note to surf the 'Net to find some.

I get inside my apartment, and the first thing I notice is that my TV was gone.  I've had a TV stolen from me before, twenty-one years ago, during a break-in that happened when I was out of town.  I took "after" pictures of how the exterminators had moved things around, while trying not to explode in anger.  I called the management company and the maintenance guy and left angry, but controlled voice messages.  In other words, I used no curse words, and I didn't yell.  Further proof that I must be getting old.  I was two seconds off of calling the police when the maintenance guy called back to say, "We moved your TV and a box containing albums and 45's to an empty apartment so they wouldn't get damaged by the heat treatment."  Okay, that solved that.  But, come on. . .they couldn't have left me a note to that effect?

Hot at Eckhart

I had been running all day long. . .trying to figure out how to move stuff around my apartment so the exterminators who are coming next week can do their job (the task is a headache), taking the contents of my piggy bank to deposit in the bank (it is worth it to save your change), picking up my notary public commission (after having waited since May for it to be processed). Then it was off to Eckhart Park for another Chicago Park District boxing show.

I packed my gear, but I figured I'd come up empty-handed when it came to being matched up.  I was right.  Oscar came in a little after the weigh-in was over, but there were people his weight for him to fight.  But I think the official verdict was that they were too young for Oscar to fight.  Kenny was more fortunate, as he did get a fight.  Arturo, one of the coaches, gave Alan passbooks created by the Park District for Kenny and I to fill out.  This is something new that has been introduced.  I understand the coaches and officials are concerned about people fabricating the amount of fights they've had.  I know I fought Meg from Hamlin twice, but I could not remember in which field houses those fights took place.  I'll have to scroll back through the entries in this blog to figure it out.  

Sarah and Amy arrived a little before the first bout began, and they were happy to learn that Kenny had gotten a fight.  I helped Alan in the corner.  Kenny's opponent was a somewhat muscular guy in his early twenties.  The windows were open in the gym, but no air was stirring.  One large floor fan, off on the other side of the room, was working, but it wasn't enough to cool the room down.  "I don't want to sound like I'm continually complaining, but it's hot in here.   I wouldn't want to fight in this heat," Alan said.

Here is a portion of the last round.  I thought I had gotten Alan talking to Kenny immediately afterwards, as well as Kenny's arm being raised in victory.  As you can see, the camera goes out of focus -- I was helping to take Kenny's gloves off as that happened -- and it cuts off after that.  Kenny's opponent won the first round, but then Kenny got the best of him by out-punching the guy.  Sarah commented, "He used the uppercut on the guy that he showed us in the gym last night!" 

Bill told Alan and I that he would bring Meg over to the Loyola show later this month as an opponent for me.  He mentioned that she hasn't been training much at Hamlin.  I remembered seeing a news report months ago about her showing she also trains at the firehouse where she works, so she's probably getting workouts in there. 

Eckhart's boxing show was one of the shortest ones I've attended.  It was over in an hour.  Just as well, considering how hot and dry it was.  Today's temperature was in the 90s, but it felt good when we all got back outside.  Sarah and Amy gave me a ride home. 

Pad Work Night

Alan had to attend a job function, so he was not in the gym this evening.  In attendance were Jesus, Oscar, Kenny, Amy, Sarah, and Jacob.  There's a boxing show tomorrow at Eckhart Park; neither Jesus, Sarah or Amy wanted a match.  Kenny and Oscar plan to fight, but Jacob will let Alan know if he can later on. 

Taylor Park will hold the next Chicago Park District boxing show, but Loyola Park's, which follows Taylor's show, may have to be postponed.   Alan checked the calendar and noticed Loyola's show takes place during Rosh Hashanah.  That means neither he or Barry would be able to attend.  He let Mary know, but she said they'll discuss it later on. 

One looky-loo came by, a woman who had walked into the gym Monday.  She didn't ask any questions then, and tonight, she peeked in briefly.  Ramon, who used to train regularly in the youth program, came in with another guy who also was in the youth program, but briefly.  Ramon told me that he'd like to participate in the Loyola Boxing show, but he's been out of the gym for three months.  Barry told him he'd have to train for several weeks in order to be in the show.  I held pads for Ramon's friend, who nearly blacked my right eye when he missed a shot. 

Kenny and Jacob took turns holding pads for each other.  Then Kenny alternated between holding pads for myself and Sarah.  Kenny had me do jab-right-slip right-slip left-duck-straight right-left hook a few times.  I thought it was a good combination.  After we were done, I practiced that in the mirror. 

Overall, I felt I really got in a good workout.  Usually, I don't drink all of the water I carry in a bottle to the gym, but I did tonight.  I must have really been working.  But then I need to get back to drinking a lot of water anyway.  I've kind of fell down on the job over the past two to three years in regards to making sure I get my eight glasses in every day.  It was easier when I had a full-time job.  I kept a water bottle on my desk, so that was a constant reminder not only to drink it but to keep it full.  But since I was laid off, I've fallen out of the habit.  I brought another couple of diet planners, so that's an extra incentive to keep track of my water intake, as well as how much food I shovel in from day to day. 

I was talking with Rachel, who is Aaron's (the church's custodian) wife earlier today.  I told her about how I box.  "I couldn't do that (boxing).  I'd not want anyone to have to call 911 on account of me hurting them," she laughed.  When Alan often accuses me of not hitting someone hard enough, I now realize it's usually because I like the person whom I'm sparring.  I don't want to send them to the hospital.  I told Rachel it's easier for me to go extra hard in an actual match because I usually didn't know my opponent before we got into the ring.  But even in that case, I still don't want to seriously hurt someone, even though I want to win.  I don't think guys who box have that problem at all, even if their opponent is a buddy of theirs. 

Five Times The Sparring

There was a small crowd in the gym on Monday night.  A guy came in with his five year old son; he just picked up the gloves and started hitting the bags.  I assumed Alan gave him the go-ahead because he didn't say anything to the guy when he saw him.  The guy ended up working the pads with Jesus later in the evening.  At the end of the night, the guy complimented me on my sparring. 

Renee and I sparred first.  She got me a a couple of good body shots, and I kept aiming at her head, since she's not much taller than I am.  Renee was done after the first round, because she was gassed out.

Alan and I did the next two rounds, and he had no headgear on.  He didn't really need it.  I kept laughing because he kept getting me with sneaky punches.  He was laughing, too.  However, I managed to avoid taking another kidney shot from him. 

Jimmy (wearing the orange shorts in the photo above) sparred with Nathaniel (in the red shorts).  Alan is seen watching the action.  Once again, another spectacular punch took place while my back was turned.  Jimmy punched Nathaniel in the nose; Nathaniel was bleeding.  Some of his blood was on the canvas, and I had to wash off one of the water bottles, because some of it had splashed on there, too.  He was okay, but he told me that his nose was hurting like hell.  "I'll be going to bed early tonight," he smiled.

Alan noticed that Jesus had not sparred.  "Do you want to spar?" he asked, and Jesus looked around the room to see with whom he could spar.  "Don't look around; it doesn't matter," Alan told him.  I agreed to get back into the ring with Jesus.  "Really hit him because he has to learn to hit back," Alan told me before the bell for the first round rang.  While I was in there, Alan told Jesus, "Hit her!  It's okay!"  Before the second round, Sarah suggested that I end my combinations with my left.  I took her advice, and it worked more times than not. 

I saw Ray this past Saturday.  He's a barber at Clippers and Shears, and I went to have my hair cut by him.  Ray would have gone to Harrison Park last week, but the man fell ill that evening and couldn't make it in.  Hopefully, he'll come in on Wednesday.  Eckhart Park is having their boxing show this Thursday, and maybe Ray could get a fight there. By the way, he cuts hair very well.